


Burning now

by AllTheWayMae



Series: Blyla and Fam [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: -Ish, Aayla Secura could use a hug too, Bly doesn't like hospitals alright? Leave him alone, Bly's POV, Blyla, Cuddling, Everyone's basically fine, F/M, Flashbacks, Friendship, Get Commander Bly a hug, Intimacy, Kix does not approve, Musing, Mutual Pining, Pining, Protectiveness, Referenced slavery (nothing graphic), Sharing a Bed, Some adventure, Some awkwardness too, Some big love over here (but we're kind of repressed), What is this relationship exactly?, Zygerria, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25621546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheWayMae/pseuds/AllTheWayMae
Summary: "If we pull this off, we're doing a very good thing and saving lives.  I'm going to hold onto that.""I can do that, too," Bly promised her.  "I'd just rather that we weren't splitting up..."Because that's how they fought this war: side to side, hip to hip.  Always.[Where Aayla and Bly join Rex, Obi Wan, and Anakin on Zygerria to rescue the Togrutas. Bly's POV in musings and flashbacks.]
Relationships: CC-5052 | Bly/Aayla Secura
Series: Blyla and Fam [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944805
Comments: 12
Kudos: 108





	Burning now

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose this is a Zygerria AU (Episodes 4.12&13) with Aayla Secura and Commander Bly along for the ride.
> 
> Have been fiddling with Bly/Aayla (because reasons <3) in my docs for a while now, and I had the side-idea of Aayla temporarily taking Ahsoka under her wing after Zygerria/Kadavo ...and I love Ahsoka but I had some trouble with it, so it somehow morphed into Aayla taking her place on the sting operation (or whatever we're calling it)... and then it also morphed into a tale from Bly's POV in 11,000+ words. How? And why? I have no control of my brain. 
> 
> Hopefully the flashbacks are clear; I might change how I page-break...
> 
> ENJOY!

* * *

Bly is staring up at the ceiling of the infirmary and...well, he’s not pouting, per say. 

Because pouting is petulant and ineffectual. Also because he is a GAR Commander and therefore does not - will not - pout. 

He is ...brooding. Yes. That’s much better. 

He’s been brooding since waking up, which he feels is beyond fair seeing as it has been a long _fekking_ week. 

It had started like this:

_He’d arrived at General Secura’s quarters at 18:00 on the dot, just as planned. He was half dressed-down because the 327th would be arriving on Coruscant for leave soon, and she didn’t ordinarily stand on showy decorum anyway._

_Bly tapped twice on the door and then dialed himself in through the security panel. He knew her passcode like she knew his, such were the long hours they kept and the intimacy with which they knew one another’s spaces. Plus she’d invited him, so …_

_Hmm._

_She was there in the semi-spacious room,but she didn’t look like she was expecting a visitor. No, no. Her eyes weren’t even open, and she was seated cross-legged and immobile on a thin mat._

_He had seen her meditate before, of course - countless times and on various perches. Hells, he’d even joined her (eh, sort of) on occasion, so it wasn’t a foreign or confusing sight. He was only surprised because ...because they had an appointment._

**_Right_** _?_

_“...sir?”_

_She didn’t startle because she never startled. Not really. She did inhale deeply, though. Blinked her eyes open. Then cocked her head at him._

_“...Commander?”_

_He couldn’t at all figure why she eyed him that way - with curiosity rather than expectation. He blinked back at her and replayed their earlier conversation...yes. Yes she had, in fact, said 18:00._

_“I’m here for our meeting?” he hated that he sounded unsure when he_ ** _was_** _sure, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d caught her unawares._

_He felt a vague sense of guilt for it, but -fek him - he also sort of loved the little baffled look on her face. The way her eyes went wide._

_“18:00,” he stated the time because he knew he was right._

_“Is it?” her spine straightened and her face schooled, and dissonance scratched at his ribs because he was as charmed by the swift recovery as he was troubled._

_“I can come back later...”_

_“No!” she stepped forward and waved a hand to dismiss the proposition, voice firmer and face steadier as per usual. “No, sorry. I did invite you. I ...suppose I lost track of time.”_

_While Aayla glanced over at her mat, accusing it perhaps, Bly assessed her. She was still in her everyday clothes but sans her lekku bands since there was no fight on the horizon. As a result everything about her was sleeker and less static, a thing Bly enjoyed because he had begun to learn to read her unconfined lekku when they twitched and adjusted._

_They were currently curling in toward her while she inhaled deep, held it, and then sighed the breath out slow. Centering herself enough that she sounded more herself when she next spoke._

_“Have a seat…”_

_He placed himself in one of the chairs at her small table, and it felt better than standing bland in the doorway right up until she didn’t join him. She remained standing, shifted her weight, crossed her arms… ...it made him feel like he should be back on his feet and prepared._

_For what?_

_Who knew._

_“Sir…”_

_“Aayla,” she corrected with a smile that was light and_ ** _almost_** _right. “It’s just us, and we’re nearly on leave … ...I’m not here to give you an order, exactly.”_

_“Whatever you need, s-- Aayla”_

_He kicked himself for the falter but kept his face neutral. He was used to calling her by her name; it was always invited when they weren't dealing with the proprieties of the military. They were in her quarters, and he knew better._

_He forced himself to take a long, steadying breath like she had. They’d learned breathing exercises on Kamino - how to remain right minded in the thick of a fight- and Aayla had taught him where the benefits spread beyond the battlefield._

_Focus. It was just him and Aayla._

_“I received a communique from General Kenobi” -- that was the 212th, which wouldn’t be horrible ...he could pivot the men to go join Cody; they might even enjoy it -- “about a mission. Well ...less a mission, perhaps, and more a special job.”_

_Not a full fledged battle, then. Perhaps an elite squad? Bly started assembling a catalog of names in his mind, but he’d need further specifics to whittle it down to whatever size she necessitated._

_“What sort of job?”_

_“A hunt for information ...dovetail that into a rescue if all goes well.”_

_Ah. Covert. Not the speciality of every man - Ink and Mav liked to go in big, for instance - so Bly’s mental list got a bit shorter. But they could get it done. No problem._

_“...and they’ve asked me to join them.”_

_Uh._ ** _Just_** _her?_

_Fek._

_No._

_Nope. He began mentally scribing a new list, one that enumerated all the reasons why a covert mission with another battalion was ill-advised. Why she should have her own men with her. Him. Why she should have_ ** _him_** _with her. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t survive on her own, of course - Force knew they all thought her capable. But. But he should have her back. That was how they conducted this war. Together_

_“I have to admit it isn’t a job I’m entirely comfortable with…”_

_Hah_. _Then she positively was not going it solo, was she?_

_Bly knew the boys would be on his side, or at least enough of them would be. He made a third and fresh list of names he could recruit to block her exit for the sake of her own safety. Protecting their general was a primary objective, and if they had to go against her own plans to do it … ...well, that made something squirm in his very spine but he’d deal with that._ ** _After_** _._

_“...so I’d like you to come with me.”_

_Oh._

_Well. Hmm. Something warm blossomed in his chest and scorched up into his shoulders, pulling them taut..._

_But first things first because anything that made her uncomfortable was suspect in his book and needed to be put down. Hard._

_“The hell’s our objective?”_

_She sighed a sigh that he recognized, and he barely abstained from rolling his eyes._

_“I_ ** _told_** _you it’s not an order. You’re meant to be on leave; you don’t have to accept bef--”_

_“I’m in, Aayla,” he interrupted her deference to his choice because he’d already made it. “Just tell me what we’re doing...I want to know what you know.”_

_Specifically, he wanted to know what detail had her wound up so he could help her destroy it. Or, no...since they were being covert, he’d systematically dismantle it. Thorough and real quiet like if those were the parameters._

_“Thank you…”_

_“Of course”_

_She must have sensed that he wasn’t backing out because she came forward to join him at the table, folding herself into a seat with one leg tucked up against her chest._

_He didn’t miss that this was defensive posture. Her feet were bare, and Bly found that oddly vulnerable as he watched her toes curl at the edge of the chair. Much like the tips of her lekku continued to curl and uncurl in a restless way._

_“...what do you know about Zygerrians?”_

_

Not a shit ton, but he’d known enough to interpret in an instant why the mission didn't excite her: slavers. 

And he knows heaps more about Zygerrians now, doesn’t he? More than he’d wanted or needed - thank you very fekking much _-_ and he’d come upon the knowledge the hard way…

Not that he’s complaining (except for how he very much is - he _hates_ medical, and that’s totally normal. Totally fine). 

“Couldda been worse,” he mutters to himself, not for the first time

Then he’s peering to his left and right, but no one looks like they noticed him talking to himself. Which is just as well because he hardly needs a concussion concern. That might nab him extra time on observation.

His eyes slip down the long room, next. General Kenobi is in one of the far beds swathed in bacta wraps and has been awarded privacy by a stiff curtain. As a Jedi he’d been doled a special amount of attention and pain on Zygerria. He’d ordered Bly and Rex to halt their interference so their blood didn’t end up on his hands, but they’re meant to protect their generals ...so Bly is sure he’ll catch a measure of flak from Cody; it’s only a matter of time. 

Rex himself is nowhere to be seen because he, as Captain on this very ship, is friends with the medics and had talked his way into resting-off the mission in a real bed while leaving Bly to follow standard operating procedure. 

_The fucker._

Bly now defies the Captain to ever need a small favor aboard The Liberty where _he_ has the sway. Forget it. Request denied. Step on.

Because he’s fine, really. Bruising. Minor burns. Dehydration. Malnutrition. Those latter factors are the ones that have him in here overnight with IV hydration and nutrients ordered. A treatment he’s sure he could be absorbing with equal efficiency outside of the medbay, not that this _Kix_ fellow is open to such sound reasoning. 

‘ _While you’re injured, my patch supersedes your rank,’_ Kix had patted his red medic’s designation in a matter-of-fact fashion, all but begging Bly to rip it off of him with extreme prejudice. _‘I’m in charge in here, sir.”_

So fuck him, too. 

Fine. Bly isn’t the ideal patient, but he’s willing to live with that blight on his reputation.

Still. Could’ve been worse… 

.

_“Captain Rex?” Aayla’s voice, though level, had seemed loud in the room that had remained tense and silent since her entrance a couple minutes prior._

_“Yessir?”_

_Bly cut his gaze sideways and saw that the blonde trooper was keeping his gaze dutifully averted._

_Just as he fekking ought._

See, General Secura’s disguise had been - to put it in diplomatic terms - distracting? He’s ashamed to say he’ll never get it out of his head. Which is probably saying something since her crop tops don’t leave much to the imagination on the battlefield...she and most of her brethren refuse to kit up properly, but that’s another issue altogether. 

Point is, she has never been shy and they all just had to adapt.And Bly has! They all have. He’s used to her battlegear; it’s nothing these days. 

But even Jedi Knight Aayla No-Body-Shame-Here Secura hadn’t appreciated the outfit and what it stood for.If one could even call it an outfit...

Purple instead of her regular grey and black. Gauzy and barely more than a bikini save for the damned **sheer** fabric draped here and there. Bly has no idea what to call it because he doesn’t have a vocabulary for fashion and hadn’t cared to ask. He just knows he’d had to refrain from (A) jabbing Rex in the eyes for seeing it, and (B) telling Skywalker and Kenobi their plan was flaming bantha fodder. 

And, as far as he understood, they’d originally conceived Aayla’s role to be filled by Padawan Tano?

Fuckwits. All of them _._

It had been no wonder Aayla agreed to join the job.

_“Could we have the room, please?” she’d requested._

_“Oh. Ah. Of course…”_

_Rex picked up the multi-buckle boots he’d been trying to fit to himself and bolted. Not, Bly noted, without casting a last glance behind himself at the Twi’lek general’s shapely legs._

_And, in truth, it was hypocritical of Bly to blame the other man...but that was irrelevant. He made note of the slip and vowed eventual retribution._

_Then he was alone with the General, and for the first time in ages it didn’t comfort him. Not one iota. He felt ...off. Like a shiny meeting his commander for the first time, thoroughly trained but suddenly filled to bursting with the stark fear of having no idea what to do with his own hands._

_So he kept his back to her, faced the wall and adjusted the heavy, ill-fitting tunic in a purely unnecessary way_

_“Bly?”_

_“Yessir,” he echoed Rex because it was easy._

_He heard her sigh and move through the room before the door slid shut. He thought he’d have felt her leave but looked over his shoulder to check anyway, only to find she was still standing there._

_He snapped his eyes away._

_“...Bly?” She tried again and he knew it was a chastisement for the formality, disappointment soft but present in the single syllable._

_They’re alone and he’s welcome to speak his mind, but still all he can muster is a grunted “hmm?”_

_“... ...can I get a sitrep, Commander?”_

_Fek, seriously? Now? Here? For what kriffing purpose? They knew the situation; nothing had changed since first arriving on The Resolute two days ago._

_Then again, there was something routine about the words and being urged to follow a protocol...so he was willing to give it a try. He half-turned back to her._

_“ETA is less than a standard hour. We know who the enemy is and they don’t know us; that’s our greatest advantage,” he repeated this fact for them both. “Could stand to be better armed, though…”_

_“I can’t argue with you there,” Aayla patted her bare hip._

_Her saber usually had a home there, but she’d surrendered it to General Skywalker’s R2 unit for safe-keeping. That chafed Bly almost as much as being parted from his own weapons._

_“...good thing we’re both lethal barehanded,” he reminded himself aloud._

_“Sure. Says the man who lost our last sparring bout,” Aayla raised an accusatory finger at him, smirking all the while._

_He shouldn’t rise to a jab like that. It was too base. But his spine locked in defense anyway, just like she must have known it would._

_“There’s a lot of sparring sessions to count up before you can declare a true winner, General”_

_He knew precisely what that count was, but they never spoke of it._

_There were a lot of things they didn’t speak of._

_“Hmm...I suppose,” her humorous lilt trailed off and the room shifted again because, sure, she’d successfully crackled the tension but the lightness couldn’t stay - not yet. “Tell me what you’re thinking about ...I know you’re upset.”_

_Ah, yes. The kind of thing she can_ ** _feel_** _with the Force._

_Aayla had once told him that his usual presence in the Force was heavy and smooth, sturdy and always warm - something he felt reflected in the warm pride he often felt around her, though he never said so - but that it grew spiky and crunched if he was mad._

_He knew he must be emitting the latter right now. He needed to focus on sturdy and warm so he could return to that state ...for both of them._

_“...you don’t like this plan.”_

_Factual. Because she’d approached battles with a smile on her face and had jumped from low-flying transports with a laugh on her lips. In comparison, her humor now is forced and flat._

_“That’s true…” she made herself sound so smooth, so serene, about the whole thing even as she fiddled with the negligible strap of her top._

_How did she fekking manage that? Nine hells, but he wanted to shake her!_

_“So I don’t like it either”_

_“I know,” her smile was a sardonic thing, resigned and looking for the silver lining. “That’s why I like you...”_

_He couldn’t match her smile, so he looked away again. As much for the guilt of not being able to meet her level of calm yet as for the fact that he shouldn’t be looking at her at all. Not now._

_Or ever, truth be told...but he’s something of a liar._

_He needed to focus. On his breathing._

_In and out._

_“...I don’t see what’s funny,” he grumbled at the lingering smirk around her face. “You deserve better.”_

_The look that flitted across her face next confused him, but she stowed it away before he had time to mull it over properly. Then she pulled herself up tall and planted her hands on her hips, which were less covered than ever und--_

_“...and do you think differently of me now, Commander?”_

_His eyes snapped to hers._

_The shit?_

_“No!” there was more confidence in that declaration than in nearly anything else he’d said today. “Of course not. I’d follow you anywhere; that doesn’t change.”_

_Only when she gave another nod did he continue to breathe again. In and out._

_“You don’t have to. You do know that, right? I’m glad you’ve come, but if you’re troubled you can still--”_

_“No,” he repeated himself, and if she wanted to remove him from the mission she was going to have a hell of a fight on her hands ...sedation would be required. “I’m not letting you step foot on that planet without me at your six, not when I know how you feel about the labels that are thrown onto your people.”_

_Because that’s why this plan was so sickly simple, right? Twi’leks were considered exotic and desirable in the slave-trade. Aayla, whip smart and capable of looking out for herself, could provide a distracting cover for the rest of them simply because these Zygerrians would only see one thing. No one will bat at an eye at the rest, and they’ll have a chance to search for the missing Togrutas._

_From a distance it made sense._

_From a distance they could laugh at how the Zygerrian’s perverse greed blinded them._

_But there wasn’t any distance right now. Bly was standing right there in the room with Aayla and could see all the minuscule ways her face and body didn’t match her relaxed words. He was looking at her and replaying every passing comment she’d ever made about Twi’lek stereotypes. Was remembering the times they’d slipped into skeezy bars to get intel off informants and she’d grumbled about needing a scalding shower. Was thinking about the fact that she knew more Hutteese than anyone might like and how he’d always been reticent to ask why._

_“If...if I can speak freely,” he knew the answer, but she’d fallen awfully quiet and it was a silence he couldn’t parse._

_Her eyes were flicking over his face for the outburst, and he wasn’t sure if she was surprised or impressed. Both? Maybe disconcerted. It was hell being seen sometimes, and he should know - she’d taught him as much over the last years_ _._

_“Of course you can,” she promised. “...and you’re a good man.”_

_Not a good trooper or a good commander._

_A good man._

_His chest did a thing it was best to ignore._

_“You’re not telling me to stay behind, then?” he jutted his chin out, happy to remain stubborn instead of acknowledge what she’d said._

_“Of course not”_

_Perfect. She’d chosen him for this - a reminder that made his chest do the thing again - and he wouldn’t be turned away now._

_“Good”_

_“...it’s a lot. I know that,” she let some tension into her voice, and though it twisted his gut her honesty also relieved him. “But if we pull this off we’re doing a very good thing. I’m going to hold onto that … ...and I’ll deal with the rest of it later.”_

_Right. He didn’t imagine it would be an enjoyable debrief, but if she could compartmentalize it then he sure as hell could._

_Bly had learned that sometimes courage meant keeping your head down and shouldering a burden you didn’t like. He didn’t have to explore this lesson often - Aayla didn’t give orders that way because she invited his thoughts and respected the expertise of all her Captains - but he could see it all over this mission. Aayla would rather be anywhere else, but participation wasn’t the most distasteful option on the table. She was looking for levity, but the rigid line of her shoulders matched his._

_It was no revelation to him that his General was brave, not at all This was just a new, beautiful facet of it._

_His chest swelled even as trepidation tickled his fingers._

_“I can do that, too,” he promised her. “I’d just rather that we weren’t splitting up...”_

_Her smile was small, but he could echo it with one of his own this time. Because that’s how they did things: side to side, hip to hip. Always._

_“Agreed...but I’ll be alright. Even without a weapon I can dissuade certain unwanted attention,” her mouth twisted in some measure of disgust. “You need to worry about yourself ...you boys won’t be on a cakewalk. The guards will be armed.”_

_“...I’m not worried about that.”_

_“Oh?” she teased._

_Bly only smirked. He felt quite sure that he had the motivation to rip some limbs from torsos if a fight broke out on Zygerria. In fact ...he might’ve been hoping for it. A little. Or a lot._

_Not his fault he was essentially bred for competition._

_And Aayla chuckled, which was elating._

_“A fight does feel like it would cut the tension, but I don’t imagine I’m dressed for sparring...”_

_No. No she absolutely was not. Well... to be fair, she could crack skulls in any clothing.It was more that he himself wasn’t fit to spar with her while she was dressed the way she was._

_He watched her gaze down at herself, and her bare toes wiggled against the cool floor, never mind that she’d been standing there confident moments ago like the getup nothing._

_But he could spot her lies._

_And he felt like a di’kut thinking only of himself._

_“Here,” he shuffled away to fetch the thin robe she was meant to travel in. “We can exercise while you wear that if you rather…”_

_She was smiling while she took the black material and shrugged it on, but she was also shaking her head._

_“No, I need to finish getting ready…”_

_“Finish?”_

_“Mmhmm,” she tapped the thin, gold piece of headband on her forehead._

_He didn’t understand that until she rummaged through a bag and came up with more gold treachery in the shape of fine-chained jewelry. A necklace with dangling lines of tiny jewels that trailed long down her torso, directing the eye straight down to her --_

_It was alluring and upsetting, and he wasn’t sure what to think except to be glad for the first time that she never wore jewelry._

_She tied her robe closed - thank each of the heavens - after her necklace was in place, but then she was asking for his help with a headdress. It was all delicate gold hoops, so it was slow work._

_“Not sure my hands were made for this,” Bly scowled at his fingers._

_She’d helped him connect the links to her metal crown, but untwisting the chains to twine around her lekku was the kind of small work he wasn’t adept to._

_“You’re doing fine,” Aayla promised even as he made a small knot worse and cursed under his tongue. “Take your time...”_

_She had a point. Maybe he ought to still be focusing on his breathing. Her robe helped, but he hadn’t actually forgotten what was going on or where they were headed._

_In. And out._

_By the time he finished he was glad it had taken so long. The proximity was companionable and calming._

_“Uh” - or, actually, maybe he’d relaxed too much?- “I might’ve done it wrong.Or I broke it...”_

_There were a few extra bits dangling on the inside of her lek that didn’t fit the swooping aesthetic. Aayla lifted a hand backward to investigate, and he took her wrist to guide her touch._

_“These clasp to one another ...to link my lekku, I mean”_

_“Oh,” he supposed he could see how that was meant to work, though it ruined the effect by interrupting the softer lines. “Seems stupid…”_

_“It keeps them from moving too much,” Aayla grumbled. “A sort of a muzzle, you know?_

_His hands stilled in silent rebellion._

_Yes, he understood._

**_No_** _, he didn’t want to participate._

_He knew the purpose of the headband and flexible, criss-crossed lekku straps she wore during battle: they helped protect the appendages and kept them out of the way since she wasn’t working with other Twi’leks who could fluently read that level of body language._

_But in this context ...the idea of_ ** _muzzling_** _her?_

_“Go on,” she encouraged and reached behind herself to blindly pat his side._

_It still felt wrong, but if he refused that would only leave Rex, Skywalker, or Kenobi to assist her, which felt deeply unacceptable._

_Forward march, soldier._

_“They’re breakable,” Aayla offered once he continued._

_And whether that reminder was for him or more for herself ...it was true. The accessory was gaudy and weak like the rest of her garment._

_“...do they hurt?”_

_As soon as he asked he knew he shouldn’t have; if it pained her he might shred the thing apart._

_“It’s not comfortable,” she was ever-honest. “It pinches now and then...my straps are softer.”_

_And even_ ** _those_** _ached her a bit if she wore them too long. Bly had seen her pry them off with minimal patience to massage the appendages like a tweaked muscle. He had even helped her because, hey, wouldn’t he do the same for any of his fellow soldiers with a minor injury? She’d taught him where the wrap usually caused pressure and what areas of her lekku were more sensitive that he should avoid touching… ...and the whole act took on a bit of a different air after that conversation, but he’d listened and learned and been happy for it._

_“Anything I can fix?”_

_He fitted his fingers under some of the chains to check how tight they were wound and where they could be loosened._

_“Not r-” she paused, a shiver tittering down her spine when his calloused fingertip brushed lower on her lek than he generally ventured, then continued quieter. “No. It’s fitting how it should.”_

_He stepped away feeling somewhere between thrilled and embarrassed. Some exhilarating combination of the two that he sped high on for a moment. Just long enough to feel reckless ...to think he lived so close to the edge most days, anyway, so what would be the harm in--_

_But then she was turning. Looking him over. Frowning at his still-undone left boot._

_“I can--”_

_She started to kneel down to help him, but it felt beyond wrong at the moment.Breaks slammed in his mind._

_“No,” he darted back, floundering only a moment under her surprised look, before he squatted down to handle the fasteners himself. “I figured them out…”_

_He tugged and fit and clamped them quickly to prove it._

_“Pretty flashy,” she eyed the shoes once he stood back to his full height and stretched his legs._

_“And hardly tactical…”_

_Too tall. Too stiff and constricting. Maybe if they were better broken in..._

_“That’s a consensus, then,” Aayla gestured to herself._

_Bly harbored the thought that she could make anything tactical if she wanted, but perhaps that was best not to say...and he also shouldn’t be complaining considering the fact that he got to wear more than damned underthings._

_“...back to no smiling,” she graded him aloud when he didn’t respond. “We can meditate?”_

_He still wasn’t great at that, though she always showed interest in his attempts and let him join when he wanted. But, no, he didn’t see the point today - he already knew what unwanted thoughts would thwart him._

_“No thank you … ...I’ll stand by while you do, though, if you like”_

_He enjoyed the peace of her meditating_

_“No. I think I’ve done enough recently”_

_He was sure, given the anxieties she’d had to attend to._

_“Seems like it helped”_

_“It did”_

_There was a sliver of unease under her smile, but otherwise her exercises really did seem to have worked. She’d brought herself a long way from the agitated night she’d first told Bly about this job._

_Maybe he_ ** _should_** _try…_

_“Shall we go then?” Aayla lifted up her hood and nodded for the door._

_“ETA’s closing in,” he nodded, shifting from the idea of a few minute’s peace and back to work. “After you…”_

.

It’s clear, now - much too late - that he should have taken her up on the offer. A chance to focus only on clearing his head. A few extra minutes of just being with her. Silent and together. 

Because parting from her and Skywalker once they were planet-side hadn’t been easy. Had almost pulled a protest from his mouth. 

And then it had only taken hours for things to go awry while they searched for the captives. He, Rex, and General Kenobi had been caught and eventually dragged before the Zygerrian people for auction, where he’d caught sight of Aayla again. Stripped of her robe, a shock collar around her throat, and eventually twitching on the ground in pain when she’d tried to come to their defense after Skywalker attempted and failed to free them. 

Bly had seen red. 

He feels the rage even now when he recalls it, never mind that he knows Aayla is walking around healthy somewhere on the ship. 

When he, Rex, and Kenobi had been spirited away to Kadavo to work in the mines he had ...well, he’s not sure he had lost **all** hope, but he’d felt pretty damn low. 

_Fek_. His heart’s racing. 

Best not to think of all that…

Too bad the sterile smell of bacta is sharp in his nose. Unavoidable and leaving him no space to pretend he is elsewhere. 

He squeezes his hands into the starched sheets and considers going temporarily AWOL. 

Kix runs the med wing? Fekking fine - let him. But that power only prevails so long as he’s present to wield it, and there is no Kix in sight. 

Bly has nowhere secure to go, but he needs to do _something_. He doesn’t want to bother Aayla - maybe she’s still debriefing with Skywalker? - but he’d like to see her. Just ...just to reassure himself. 

That could be risky, though; he might get exiled back here ...maybe he’ll head straight to the barracks instead. 

In the barracks he can throw his rank around. Tell some new CT’s to shut their lips and let him crash in there.If he glares hard enough he can get food out of them, too. And soap, if he’s lucky. They’d let him sit in a sonic shower stall earlier, but he’d enjoy a real one… …

But it feels like a fool’s errand. He looks up at his IV stand and glares - _that_ would probably give him away, and it’s a poorer patient than even he wants to be to rip out the tool giving him sustenance. He _does_ want to get better, after all, and he's not stupid. 

He just … he just... _ugh_. 

He needs to relax. 

‘Focus’

Breathe in and out, and hope for the best. He’s safe now, Aayla is safe, and the mission is settled. He should be glad. 

The 501st, who’d come to help them off Kadavo with fanfare, are helping the surviving Togrutas get sorted. Some of them are in another wing of the infirmary, and Kix had said the rest were cotting down in a protected corner of the hanger and …

Point is, he doesn’t need to dwell. 

“ _Everyone’s alright. We’re all alright,”_ Aayla had assured him, so smooth and so confident, after she pulled him off his evac and his adrenaline high had plummeted and started giving way to deep exhaustion _._

How many hours ago had that been, anyway? _No_. It shouldn’t matter. She had promised, and he believes her. 

Mission complete. 

So why does he feel ...well. What _does_ he feel?

Bly closes his eyes. Breathes. Tries to focus inward. 

_._

_Adrenaline pumped hot and fierce in his blood while a cooler, sick satisfaction filled his mind. Side-by-side with Rex and Kenobi, they’d taken over the control room. The sneering Zygerrians who’d meant to execute them had shouted and fallen under their hands. Even Agruss, the leader, was slumped over dead thanks to Rex._

_Bly probably enjoyed the sight more than he ought, but who was to judge? Even Kenobi hadn’t tried to stop it._

_The room was full of nothing but heavy breathing until an alarm blared and the door scraped open again. They all turned, ready to fight on, but only found Skywalker._

_“...you didn’t wait for me?” he smirked in way that suggested confirmation of each and every once-thought-exaggerated story Bly had heard about him._

_Tension leaked from the other two, but Bly barreled forward._

_“Where is she!?_

_Fresh rage was pounding in his skull at Aayla's absence, and clearly he was showing zero reverence because Skywalker looked shocked for the briefest moment._

_Oops. He’d happily take his dressing-down for it later._

_“Secura’s alright - she went down a level looking for the Togrutas a--”_

_“Then what’re we waiting for?”_

_Point him in the right kriffing direction already!_

_In his peripheral he saw Rex and Obi-Wan shift forward, too, but Skywalker shook his great, shaggy stupid head._

_“She’s found a way out for them. The Resolute is moving in to load them directly. Our evac is closer - just outside…”_

_Bly’s hands clenched. He just wanted to be told where she was - he was so close._

_“Let’s go, then,” Rex spoke first. “Lead the way, General…”_

_And then the other Trooper was inside his space. Nodding and giving him a pointed look. Grabbing him by the scruff of the neck to start steering._

_Bly allowed it, hardly having a choice but to trust that Rex - a brother - would recognize if Skywalker was blowing smoke. They made their way outside where a transport was waiting. As soon as they dove inside and were off their feet, energy sapped from all his muscles. He tried to fight it ...just in case. In case she needed him, in case this kriffing shit-show wasn’t over. But knowing they’d been found, that fresh faces and fresh power was here to take over ...it was hard to stay alert._

_“--and he’s here… ... yes, I_ ** _told_** _you I’d get him,” Skywalker’s voice caught Bly’s attention again._

_He was looking at no one...so, speaking into a comm, then? Aayla!? Bly wanted to ask - no,_ ** _demand_** _\- but all he did was lean forward. Waiting_

_“He’s here and he’s whole…” Skywalker noticed his attention and flicked a thumb at him._

_All good._

_Bly slumped against the transport wall, not entirely content but certainly relieved. He looked around at Rex who was slouched next to him looking as ragged as he felt. General Kenobi appeared worse and was hunched forward over his bent knees with two troopers crouched in front of him to support his shoulders while he nodded to something they were asking. He’d gotten a rough time of it, Kenobi ...and he had Bly’s respect, whatever that might mean to the Jedi._

_“Why aren’t we landing? Is there a problem?” the senior Jedi craned his neck up to Skywalker._

_Bly tensed and tried to amp himself again for action. Did Kenobi sense something?_

_“Just a holding pattern, General!” one of the pilots shouted back._

_“The Resolute needed to get in close for the refugees ...it’s too dangerous for us to move in. We’re just waiting for their ascent so we can land.”_

_Fek.Fek.Fek._

_Bly squeezed his eyes shut against unexpected nausea. He_ ** _felt_** _Rex clap his shoulder._ ** _Heard_** _him say not to worry ...but he stayed put and breathed. In and out._

_He didn’t hear much_ _that happened_ _\- not really - until the transport clattered to a landing in the ship’s hanger._

_He jolted._

_Let a white-armored trooper heft him up._

_Blinked._

_Blinked…_

_And then his vision was filled with brown - something soft - and smooth blue. Wide, dark eyes._

_Aayla._

_He reached for her._

_“You’re alright? You found everyone? Where are they? Do you need help?”_

_“Sir!” a large, gloved hand tightened on his upper arm when his next step could better be described as a stumble._

_He ignored and shrugged the man off._

_“What do you need me t--”_

_“Stop,” he listened to Aayla’s quieter order and let her grip his elbow and chest to steady him. “Everyone’s alright. We’re all alright ...relax. Take a breath.”_

_In. Out._

_“You’re alright?” he swallowed and could only guess, covered as she was in a hefty brown robe._

_“Yes,” her answer was direct. “I wasn’t the one sent to a slave mine…”_

_He shrugged the nearby soldier away a second time and tried to paw at Aayla anyway. To check. To know. To find out if there was anyone left he ought to tear apart._

_“Stop that ...Bly,” she grabbed his face in her slender hands to steal all of his attention. “We’re on The Resolute.”_

_Not The Liberty - not_ ** _his_** _ship - but good enough._

_“...and mission accomplished,” he sighed._

_“Always”_

_He grinned, lazy and --_

_“Damn,” his eyes had drooped past her face and onto her neck where there were purplish, ringed marks on her skin- bruises or burns, it was hard to tell against her complexion._

_He reached for it without thinking, and Aayla caught his wrist in a tight hold before he could embarrass either of them._

_“Nothing bacta won’t fix…”_

_“Bacta,” he echoed but was thinking about how he should’ve fought dirtier against the Zygerrians; beat them slower._

_“And you need some, too...c’mon…”_

_She executed a sly pirouette, twisting under the arm she held so that she could direct it over her shoulders and tuck herself into his side and support his swaying weight._

_Yes. Yes, that felt good. He should feel badly for needing the help, maybe, except that he was dead on his traitorous feet and would rather not fall on his face. Rex was ahead of him, obvious in his Zygarrian garb, with a trooper at one side and Skywalker on the other, hand clamped on his elbow._

_“...want outta this assclown get-up,” he plucked moodily at his own filthy tunic._

_“First thing,” Aayla promised._

_“Master Secura!”_

_Her feet stopped, so Bly’s did, too. He had no choice, really, but he would’ve chosen to stay put anyway._

_Ahsoka Tano jogged over with a pinched look while she gestured over her shoulder._

_“Governor Roshi was asking for you. He wanted to know who s --”_

_“You can help him look for who he needs,” Aayla encouraged her. “For now he should help his people get medical attention - - they’ll get full access to the med bay.”_

_“But--”_

_“Ahsoka -”_

_“Go on,” Bly slowly - and under deep internal protest - drew his arm away from her. “Help her sort it out…”_

_Aayla glanced at him. Or glared?_

_“I’m good - he’ll get me where I gotta go, huh, brother?” he clapped the shoulder of the dutiful trooper at his right._

_“Of course, Commander”_

_Aayla paused, but Skywalker was doubling-back, too, so it didn’t look like she had much choice._

_“Make sure he gets fresh clothes.And no pit stops,” she ordered Bly’s new pal. “No matter what he says ...or I’ll find you.”_

_“Yes, General … … ...is she always scary?” the 501st trooper muttered under his breath once the Jedi all jogged off together._

_If Bly had the energy he would’ve laughed._

.

_‘We’re all alright’_

That is what she’d said. For now, he simply has to trust that the statement included her own wellbeing. That she’d been running around hunting for them and the Togrutas because she was truly fit enough to be doing so. She’d looked alright, bruises not withstanding, and she’d been sturdy enough to support his deadbeat ass…

Yes. He can trust her words. 

He can always trust her words. 

The thought calms him, and he realizes his breathing is steady and even growing shallow. If he could just fall asleep again then the minutes stuck in the infirmary won’t feel so kriffing long.. …

  
  


He does fall asleep for an indeterminate amount of time until soft voices stir his slumber... 

“--so then, how did you know?” 

“I didn’t **know**. Not really...but sometimes when you have an educated guess you don’t need proof,” through the mud of his murky mind, Bly recognizes Aayla’s voice and starts clawing towards consciousness. 

“Obi Wan calls that kind of thinking reckless”

“... _Master_ Kenobi,” the chide in Aayla’s voice is mild but it’s there, and latent vigilance helps pull Bly the rest of the way into the waking world. “And in _your_ Master’s hands I’m sure he’s not wrong...” 

When his eyes blink open he’s staring to the left at an empty folding chair. Funny, though, because he's sure it hadn’t been there before he fell asleep...

“ _My_ Master calls it creative license...” 

The insolence in this higher, younger voice grates on Bly and he swivels his head toward it. There, at the end of his bed, stands General Secura, and Padawan Tano. He knows full well he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he’s awake and they’re there...

“And I know it serves him well most days...but that’s _his_ way _,_ ” Aayla lifts her chin, and even from where he lay it’s a gesture Bly knows well. “You’re allowed to make your own boundaries, and it would serve you well to remember that...”

“I guess...” 

“I’m not giving you an order ...just consider it,” Bly knows _that_ line, too. 

“Can I talk to him about it?” 

Though he doesn’t move, Aayla twists her face around towards Bly to meet his eye and smile.He swallows a greeting but grins tiredly back. 

“Of course you can,” she returns her focus back to the Padawan. “He’s your mentor, and you’ll need his permission...”

“What if he thinks it’s a bad idea?” 

“...I doubt that he will. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think someone is waiting for a debrief,” she steps away from her fellow Jedi and toward the side of his cot. “And you have a lot to think on...” 

“Welcome back, Commander Bly,” the young Togruta welcomes him after she sees her conversation with Aayla is over.

“Good to be here, sir” 

The smile she flashes him is genuine and sweet, but he’s glad for her to leave a moment later. 

“General,” he pushes himself up to sit once it’s just the two of them. 

His body is sluggish about it, but he’s pleased to find it’s obeys his whims. 

“You shouldn’t be awake,” her complaint would effect him more if she weren’t still smiling while he settled himself.

“Says you,” he scoffs as he looks her over. “...have _you_ caught a blink?”

She has one of her own robes on but otherwise doesn’t exactly look fresh and spritely. Indeed, her smile turns rueful and her shoulders sag. 

Hah - he knew it. 

“Well not all of us were put to hard labor, so it’s hardly a good comparison,” she argues him anyway. “But, no ...we’ve been organizing.” 

“Anything I can help with?”

He can’t _not_ try - he’s tenacious, damn it - but the way her eyes roll heavenward tells him the effort is dead on arrival. 

“There’s no need. Everyone’s resting now…” 

“Everyone but you?” his eyes have now found the thin bandages around her neck that look a lot like the minor bacta patches around his own wrists. 

She sees his look and raises a hand to pat it.

“It hardly hurts now,” she promises without making him ask. 

“...and the rest of you?” he scoots sideways to make room for her on his cot.

“Nothing serious. I ache from the shock collar," she rolls her shoulders slowly as proof. "And I have a few bruises and a minor sunburn from exposure”

She doesn’t take the seat he offers even though he’s nodding to it now.

“... _and_?” Bly feels certain a shoe is about to drop and he readies himself.

“...and nothing,” she arches a sculpted brow toward him when he narrows his eyes at her answer, then glances behind herself where another soldier is (seemingly) asleep. “Threats and innuendo, commander …I told you I could dissuade the rest.” 

“Still,” he chuffs darkly and all-out pats the space he’s made for her on the bed. 

She looks down at the thin cushion, then back up at him with her dark brow raised once more. 

“...and here I thought you’d be ready for a jailbreak by now.” 

Bly’s whole body lightens, and he wonders if he’s actually going to gather the balls to kiss her _right now_ , right out here in the open where anyone might see.

“You talked to Kix?!” 

That medic’s rank doesn’t mean shit in the face of his Jedi, and Bly loves every kriffing second of it. 

“No… ...but it’s late and the shift is thinner right now.”

Scratch that. He loves _this_ even more. 

“I’m right behind you”

“Hmmm,” Aayla takes a moment to tap at his IV bag, which hasn’t emptied. “We’ll need this…” 

“Er ...yeah?” 

“That’s alright,” she nudges the IV stand, too. “It’s on wheels…” 

Despite any fatigue that hangs around her person, her eyes are crinkled in mischief. It’s an exquisite look on her, and he’d stare at it a lot longer if he weren’t buzzed on the idea of their getaway. 

And, anyhow, he has an eidetic memory.

“...I’d like to check on Obi Wan. Then we can go.”

“Sure, sure” 

Bly watches her move off, and once she is gone he tosses aside the blanket and tests out his feet while she’s not there to tut over him or second-guess the plan. Marathons are likely out of the question today, but he is steady and his movements are more-or-less fluid.

Confident his legs can do their jobs, he turns his attention to menacing the couple conscious troopers in the vicinity to keep their mouths shut about his unsanctioned departure. He tells them he knows Rex and that he’ll call in a favor to make them wish they were still cadets in conditioning on Kamino. They both seem more amused than intimidated, but they also don’t sound like they’re going to narc so he just files away their affection toward their Captain for later. 

“Are you ready? ...because there’s no harm if you’d like to stay,” Aayla checks when she returns, the impish look about her face from earlier softened into something... _else_.

But he insists.

“No. I’m ready.” 

“Very well,” she raises her hand, and a moment later there’s a clattering sound in the next wing. “That’s our cue…”

Bly snickers. 

“Yessir!”

Their trek through the hallways is quiet and slower than his usual pace. The IV stand Bly drags beside him gets a few curious looks, but no one speaks up to question them. Such are the perks of standing beside a Jedi most of this crew doesn’t know, and they find the ship’s guest quarters with ease. 

It’s a standard room and almost identical to the one assigned to Bly back home aboard The Liberty. Smaller than General Secura’s personal quarters, but she’s a guest here and this is probably the best they have open. 

“Ah-ah,” she stops him on his way to the narrow but padded armchair. “You’re still on bed rest.” 

“...or what?” he dares even as he does what he’s told and shuffles to the bed. “Gonna turn me in?” 

“You _are_ on the lam”

“Yeah but you’re just as guilty as me,” Bly slides his IV stand against the wall and eases off of his feet with a dull groan. 

“Well, I’m not scared of Skywalker…”

Oh yeah? Because Bly’s heard enough stories that he thinks _he_ just might be. But he’s on Secura’s side, here. 

When Aayla undoes her robe he is relieved to find she’s wearing a standard tunic and leggings like those she usually wears to the Temple when they’re on Coruscant - shit, but they’d only been in Coruscanti airspace, what, _nine_ rotations ago?

It seems like more…

“Are you feeling alright?” she checks once she sits herself in the armchair.

Bly steels himself to peddle a lie, then decides it’s not worth committing to. 

“Tired is all”

“...then perhaps you should _use_ the bed.”

Her words are more of a tease than an order, but he has no doubts she would make it one if he chooses to be obstinate. She’s already sprung him early from the infirmary - he might have reached the bounds of her indulgence where his health is concerned.

So he scoots back until he meets the wall and arranges his IV tubing above the pillow like Kix had so he won’t fuck it up, then lays himself down. Loathe though his brain is to admit it, his muscles appreciate the chance to go slack and he rests his eyes.

But only for a moment! He’d put himself on the edge of the bed for a reason, and he hasn’t asked his fill of questions…

Bly’s next conscious thought is: warm. Fek, has he ever been so warm?

Then, he thinks: _shit_. 

He’s hyperaware, without warning, that he’d done more than blink. He had slept - premature and unbidden - and he’s furious with the audacity of his own body. 

He peels his eyes open out of pure spite, ready to leave behind his warmth and comfort to get back to task and …

_Oh._

He’s not alone. 

His vision is filled with a spectrum of blue, a sight that calms the spike of alarm he’d felt upon realizing he wasn't fully aware of his surroundings. A shiny, asswipe mistake. Then again... maybe he’d known it was her on instinct 

For Aayla is in the cramped bed with him, but he most decidedly hadn’t fallen asleep like this. He wonders if he’d turned onto his side and that had tempted her to slip in against him. Or had she lain down and he curled himself around her? 

Not that it much matters. They’re here now. 

And they’ve been here before - tucking close to keep out of the rain; cuddling for the shared body heat against the cold; a close, breathing presence for commiseration after a long day or a harsh mission. Without any effort - or perhaps with a lot of effort? He’s not sure anymore - what had once been practical and utilitarian had morphed to become solace and ...enjoyment. 

Akin to the way his respect and admiration of her has evolved to include feelings like attraction. And desire. 

Not that they say these things out loud. No. It’s quieter than that, couched in their reverence for one another and the way they protect each other. Their shared time and space is their evidence.

And Bly normally likes to be more direct than that, but if he starts slapping labels on things then he might also have to try this term on for size: _unprofessional_. ‘Covet thy Jedi General’ had not been a training routine on Kamino, after all. 

And, anyway, his body pressed flush against the curve of hers is pretty damn direct. Should he want more concrete explanations? Possibly.But it feels _nice_ and he does not get to have a lot of nice things. In comparison, words are paltry. 

“You haven’t slept nearly long enough,” Aayla’s gentle reminder interrupts his thoughts. 

He just grunts and tucks his face behind her head to try ignoring her supposed facts. 

“S’my business…”

He feels her answering chuckle more than he hears it. He would respond but finds himself distracted by how close he is to the lek draped in front of her shoulder. He would hardly have to lean forward to nuzzle against it...and they shun regs so often anyway. What if…

The prospect makes him shiver.

“Would you like another blanket?” 

“Mmf, no,” he shifts and ducks to hide his face behind her shoulder instead.“... ...how long were we asleep?” 

“Well. _I_ was meditating…” 

Eh. The fek ever. 

He doubts the truth of it but doesn’t press. ‘Jedi aren’t meant to form personal attachments,’ or so he’s heard. What exactly that means ...he doesn't know. May _never_ karking know. He doesn't want to ask. Everyone seems to think it means Jedi are meant to be aloof, and if that's the case then most Jedi he's met are pretty _karking_ bad at it. 

But he's not going to complain. Isn't going to jinx it.  Maybe if she doesn’t speak certain things she doesn’t have to call it “personal attachment” like he doesn’t have to call it “impropriety.” 

“Sorry to interrupt”

“You’re not an interruption,” her promise is as warm to him as her body. “... ...do you need anything?” 

He shakes his head against her back and flexes his arm tighter so she’ll forget any thoughts of abandonment she might be harboring. 

“Nothing?” 

“No”

“... ...how’re you feeling?” 

He sighs. 

“...Bly?” 

She starts to shift - to turn and scrutinize, he would guess - but he presses his head more insistent between her shoulder blades to keep her there.

“...not aces,” he answers with his truth since there’s little point in lying when they’re so close - it isn’t what they do. 

“Infirmary?” he feels her tense against him. 

Hells no. 

“Not like that,” he knows he’s physically fine - or will be soon enough - but it feels like more than just his body’s taken a beating this time around. 

Maybe he needs to meditate, too…

_Later_. For now he’s happy to stay put and attempt to soak into her heat.

“I understand...”

Bly doesn’t doubt that one bit. 

They go silent for a few moments, and Aayla’s soon skimming her deceptively slim fingers down his forearm, tickling over the fabric of his blacks until she meets the bandages that peak out at the wrist. 

He stiffens.

“I’ll be careful,” she premises as she eases his sleeve back. 

“It hardly hurts,” he doesn’t want her to worry. “You can remove the wraps if you want.”

Aayla tuts and moves her arm to elbow him - albeit much lighter than usual - in the ribs. 

“It hasn’t been twenty-four hours; the bacta is still active”

Well, fine. Look who’s counting. 

And because fair is fair, he wiggles his hand away from hers and blindly reaches up past her lekku toward her neck where she has her own bandages. 

“Guess you’re not a hypocrite,” he announces when his fingertips find soft gauze. 

“I knew you’d say that,” he can hear her smile and finds his own twisting up onto his face. 

It drops quickly. 

“You’re...sure you’re alright then?” 

“I’m positive,” she reaches for his hand, and he lets her pull it back to its previous home around her waist. “They were vile, but for the most part they waited on their Queen’s orders...and she was distracted with Skywalker.” 

“...he was supposed to stay with _you_.” 

With too much clarity, he remembers the dread that had plunged into his gut when Skywalker descended from the stone marquee to interrupt the slave auction. 

Had Bly welcomed the aid of another fighter - a Jedi, no less? Yes. Always. 

Had he been comfortable with the prospect of Aayla left alone while shackled? No. Not on any world for any reason. 

“He did his part,” Aayla was much more fair. “More than I did. I helped get us in, but I was never brought to see the other slaves like we assumed...” 

“You did more than enough ….and it’s a good thing you weren’t hauled off to meet the rest. They were with _us…_ ”

Sickness twists in Bly’s stomach, and he’s not sure what to think. Which would have struck him worse: her alongside them in that hellhole? Or her alone on another planet where he couldn’t keep an eye out for her?

“Yes. Kadavo,” she contorts herself under his arm until she’s laying on her back and she can train her wide eyes on him. “Tell me….” 

She won’t make him; she would let him keep his secrets if he wants to. And part of him does want to put a wall up. To lock it in the back of his mind to revisit ...well, _never._ It had been such a spectacularly shit-awful place. Not the work itself, for though his body had protested the strain and dehydration he is quite literally _made_ for physicality. No, the real and special pain came from seeing broken people, from watching the spirit drain out of living beings right before his eyes. He’d had sound reason to expect a rescue of some sort to come looking for them, but the only course of action had been _to wait_. 

He is decidedly _not_ built for waiting. 

And watching those who had succumbed to their new destiny... he couldn’t help to think about his own questionable lot while he stood next to them.

It’s grim shit. 

“...Bly?” she inquires rather than demands. 

He could tell her. It would be easy. She might even have plenty to say about it since she’s been on a (relatively) set path for most of her life, as well. He knows some of the questions she wrestles with from time to time…

It’s just. This isn’t what he does. At least...not like this. He longs for a helmet to hide behind; a place where his eyes just control his HUD but don’t give him away. 

But.He’s never been a quitter. 

And this is just a debriefing. 

“You first,” he requests. 

And so they report in.Quiet, but official and detailed; no highlight is left out. 

Aayla tells him about Skywalker gifting her away and about the other Twi’lek girl who’d thrown herself to her death rather than face the Queen’s punishment. How _that_ had finally scared her, how it gnaws at her now. Bly moves closer to offer her whatever comfort she wants, and when she leans in he slinks a hand up to rub light at the juncture of her lekku. 

Then he tells her about the mines and the dissonance of Kenobi telling him and Rex to leave him to his torment rather than make things worse for themselves. Aayla washes her thumbs over his tattooed cheeks and then traces the deep frown of his bottom lip when he decides there’s no more he wants to say.Next thing he knows she is apologizing for dragging him into the operation in the first place.He has to remind her she hadn’t done, that he would have fought her to join and sabotaged her transport if she’d tried to leave without him. She laughs at that, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

And all the while they continue touching with light, skimming fingers that don’t grab but won’t leave. 

It is by far the least official after-action report Bly has participated in, but it is also the most enjoyable so he resolves not to file a formal grievance about it. 

They’re not quite finished when the door chime announces a visitor. Aayla stands from the bed in a flash, and Bly scoots to the middle of the bed and arranges the standard issue quilt over himself before she decompresses the lock. 

“Ahsoka…” 

“Master Secura ...this is Kix. He’s the head medic onboard,” he hears the young one’s familiar voice explain. 

“We’ve met”

“Right. Well ...Cobb - that’s another medic - alerted him that Commander Bly was missing. He checked the security footage in the hallway, and I guess he’s ...here?” it doesn't sound as though the Padawan likes accusing the elder Jedi of any skullduggery.

“That’s right,” Aayla doesn’t balk because she’s the true champ. “He’s not missing, just relocated where he can actually rest and recharge. I made sure he slept… ...I’m sorry you felt you needed an escort, Kix.” 

“You spooked Del,” Bly supplies, smirking proud. “The Trooper who helped me to the infirmary, remember? Guess he spread the word …” 

Aayla looks rather gleeful about that, but Kix isn’t joining in the joke when he steps into the room. Quite the opposite; he jabs an accusatory finger down at Bly. 

Which, rude. 

“I gave you strict bed rest orders. Were they not clear?” 

“Sure they were, but this is what I think of ‘em...”

Bly makes a rude hand gesture before remembering there’s a kid in the room, but her tinkling laugh suggests she isn’t offended. Kix slaps his hand out of the air, though. 

“Insubordination is what it is”

“I’m a Comman--”

“Oh, you know the rules of the field as well as I do!” Kix looks very _done_.

“Yes, your pretty red patch means you’re special--I’m alright, aren’t I?”

“Gentleman,” Aayla interjects. “If we can keep it civil? Medic Kix, I’m afraid we _did_ sidestep your wellness orders. I fully accept whatever complaint you want to run up the chain of command.”

Bly snorts and doesn’t bother hiding it. Such a complaint would end up in _her_ messages to be dealt with. 

But, to his dismay, Aayla shoots _him_ a look. 

“Commander Bly will be happy for your continued assistance, however”

Damn. But sure. 

Kix then proceeds to change out his IV bag for a fresher, smaller one and quietly explains that he’ll be off the tube when the bag is empty _only if_ he can keep down liquids and light food in the meantime. His instructions have rather more curse words and insults woven into them than any medical manual could possibly mandate, but Bly is only half-listening because the Jedi are speaking in low - dare he say suspicious? - tones at the door. 

“...and I’m glad,” Aayla looks pleased about something Bly had missed while Kix explaines that even a baby Jawa could've understood orders that amounted to ‘ _stay_ ’ and ‘ _rest_.’

“Oh, treated lots of their younglings, have you?” Bly throws back before watching the women again. 

He’d missed something because Aayla is speaking again: 

“You’re going to speak with him, then?”

“Yes. Unless you’ve changed your mind…”

Ah, the trainee hasn't yet learned that Secura rarely changes her mind once she has decided a thing. 

“Not at all.”

“Then ...I guess I’ll report back”

“Whatever you like ...we’ll be here another rotation at the least”

“Then to Coruscant, right?” 

“Mmhmm, the 327th is on leave ...we’ll have a few more days and then we’ll ship out”

“Where to?” the younger is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, though Bly isn’t sure why she cares. 

“I haven’t talked to the council about _that_ yet…” 

“Water,” Kix announces and slams a small canteen onto the bedside stand.“Food,” a bland flavor of protein bar was slapped down next to it. “You’re all set.”

Great. Super. Couldn’t be happier. _Bye._

“Thanks”

“Yes, thank you Kix…” 

“General," he nods dutifully. "Commander?” the man pauses in the door. Reverent. Wondering. 

“I’m with you,” Tano nods. “...good night Master Secura.”

“I’ll see you in the morning,” 

Bly would’ve said something - probably should have - but Commander Tano is already out the door and Kix probably wishes him an infection, so no point. 

“...the Padawan alright?” he waits until the door is closed to ask. 

“Yes. We’ve talked quite a bit since the refugees have settled and things quieted down…” 

“Is she worried about her people?” 

“Well, yes - that, too.We’ve been discussing the mission. She was originally upset about being left out. She felt like it was a slight on her abilities …” 

“Mm. She’s young.”

“Yes, but she doesn’t feel it - a lot of responsibilities have been put on her shoulders… …” Aayla sees him reaching for the canteen and she snatches it first to crank off the lid as if he can’t. “But I’m glad this wasn’t one of them. I think she is, now, too.” 

Bly scoffs. Good. Maybe she’d done a little research. Or maybe she’d gotten a good look at Aayla’s get-up…

“She’s coming back with us to The Liberty,” she finishes.

For this, Bly blinks. 

“She’s...she’s _quitting_ Skywalker?” 

Given some of the harebrained rumors about that Jedi Knight, maybe Bly can’t blame the girl. But ...is that _done_? And is it complex? Does Aayla have to challenge the man to a duel for custody of his Padawan?! 

That would be _thrilling,_ and Bly will not miss it due to the triviality of bed rest.

“No, not like that. Padawans often spend time training with other Jedi - you remember when Barris joined us?”

He does remember. He’d found the girl to be overly-formal, but she’d fallen in line just as well as anyone so no complaints there. 

“Got it”

“It will be good for her. Some things ...are maybe better learned between women”

In such a case, Bly assumes he’s not required to comment further and only nods as he pushes himself up to sit.

“No - I’m fine,” he waves off her helping arm and then snatches his protein bar before she opens it for him like a fretting mother porg. 

That’s not her usual modus operandi, but between his injuries and her urge to look after Ahsoka she must be feeling extra cautious. 

“How long will she stay?”

“I’m not sure. That will depend on her, I suppose”

“Alright...well, the boys shouldn’t bat an eye. The 501st seems to like her.” 

“They do,” Aayla smiles. “Ahsoka is a smart girl….headstrong, but open. And loyal.”

“...sounds familiar.”

Small eating is in order - _“itty bitty like a baby loth cat,” Kix had grumbled_ \- so Bly reminds himself to nibble rather than scarf his food when he takes his first bite. 

“Are you calling be stubborn, Commander?” 

She sounds amused and he likes it, leaving their morose discussion of Zygerria behind for now. 

“Yes,” he doesn’t hesitate and is rewarded with her laugh. 

“...I have something for you.” 

Gifts? Now? But why? ...and from where? All he has for her is a protein bar that _he_ wants to eat.But he watches her dig into her pack and then catches the delicate gold chain she tosses into his lap. 

From...that lekku jewelry?

“...Aayla?” he thinks he'd prefer to fling the jewelry away.

“For your box. If you want...” 

Of course she knows that he has a cache of items from different planets they visit. Nothing untoward like clanker parts - that seems twisted given the damage they’ve done to his brothers. But smaller things. A dried leaf from Quell, or a strange red rock from Cristophsis. Coral from Kamino he’d earned during an ill-advised swim in the middle of a storm when he was younger and more susceptible to a dare - more foolish, in other words. A now-withered fruit from Anzat. They're all worthless, in the end, but are ways to remember the winding and dangerous path he and the 327th have taken. 

And ... _no_. He doesn’t really want it. Not at first. Then he thinks maybe she’d kept the pieces for a reason. They delicate hoops are wrecked, after all; broken because they’d escaped and outmanned the Zygarrians to complete the rescue. Maybe it’s more of a triumphant token than it seemed at first glance.

He breaks it in half and throws part of it back to her. 

“Guess we showed them what’s what, huh?” 

“We did,” her dark lips quirk up. “...I’d only be happier if we’d done so sooner”

True. _Always_ true. 

“...well, they’re burning _now_.”

There’s no point in dwelling on the past. She knows better. They both do. All they have for sure is this moment. 

“Mmm”

“...you coming back?” he pats the mattress next to him where he now leans against the wall. 

“I might go scrounge up a dinner. I wasn’t hungry before but after some rest and a moment to breathe…”

“Could you swipe me some?” his fingers fall lax on his dry, preserved bar. 

“... _that_ is what Kix approved of for you. Doctor’s orders” 

Maker, but The Resolute is just a gaggle of laughs. 

“Then don’t bring your meal back here to eat”

Aayla’s dark eyes dance, delighted at his sass. 

“Revoking my seat?” said eyes flit to the bed. 

_Hells no._

“Yep”

“...we’ll see what I can find,” she doesn’t quite commit, and her tone suggests disinterest but her face is amused. 

He takes a petulant sip off his water. 

“Don’t strain yourself”

“Never”

_Lies_. She’d strain herself for any of the men, but the banter agrees with him. 

“... ... I’m glad I jail-broke you," she's lingering by the door to study him. "You look good...” 

Dammit. He feels his cheeks heat and hates the bashful way he glances away from her.

He forces his eyes straight back.

“You too”

She does. Nearly good as new save for the bandages and her previous declaration that she has “things” to process. Entertaining the alternative is incomprehensible. Would be...would’ve been…

No.

Mission complete. 

Breathe. In and out. 

“I’ll be back shortly"

_Good._

**Author's Note:**

> Uh. Fin. 
> 
> Why do I love these two? I didn’t see it coming but <3
> 
> I've over here on Tumblr sometimes: www.tumblr.com/blog/its-alltheway


End file.
